


What We Call Love (Is Very Complicated)

by ThousandsOfWords



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Family, Love, Multi, OC Female
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 18:06:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5880610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThousandsOfWords/pseuds/ThousandsOfWords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A figure from the Winchesters' past turns up at their door. Things get very complicated very quickly as she makes them question their morals, their resolve, and their life. She will change them forever - but for better or for worse?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Who Is She?

I took a deep breath and smoothed the skirt of my plain, blue dress.It was the dull shade of blue that would be found in BIC pens from 1995. I felt self-conscious about it; was it too simple? Should I have put on something more flattering? It didn't matter at this point. I was at the corner of the shabby motel building about to make a move. I hoped that the fact that it was mid-morning and broad daylight would work to my advantage, however my stomach still twisted with anxiety.

When was I ever nervous? I had the courage and boldness of a lion; this feeling was unfamiliar and unwanted.

“Do it,” I huffed at myself between clenched teeth. I knew the longer I waited the chance of backing out grew bigger. Before my mind fully registered what was happening I strode toward the thick door with a brass 8 nailed to its wood. I raised my hand and knocked firmly with my knuckles.

I knew what was going on inside. There would be a suspicious glance, whispers of apprehension, and a quick rush for weapons. In those moments I brushed my blonde hair over my shoulder, then swept it back so it framed my face. Before I knew it the door was opened and the face of a man in his mid-twenties peered at me from behind the chain.

“Can I help you?” His green eyes drifted from my face down to my feet and up again. I felt very exposed.

“Hello, Dean.” My voice came out stronger than I expected. “We need to talk.”

His expression was immediately guarded, as I thought it would be. “Do I know you?” To my surprise, it was his turn to express anxiety with widened eyes. “You aren't... We didn't... Did we?”

My brow furrowed. “Please let me in.”

A voice drifted from somewhere behind him. “Who is it?”

Dean turned away from me. “Some chick.”

“What does she want?”

“To talk.”

The door closed in my face, and for a fraction of a second my heart sank with disappointment, but then I realized he was undoing the chain. I was welcomed inside with a simple wave of a hand. In the men's waistbands, though, I knew there were guns.

The room was standard: two beds, a small TV, a nightstand, and ugly wallpaper and carpet. As soon as the door closed they pierced me with gazes of wariness. I smoothed the skirt of my dress again.

“Are you pregnant or something?”

I shook my head slowly. “No, why would you assume that?”

Dean let out a huge sigh and smiled. “Nothing, nothing. Don't worry 'bout it.”

Sam shot him a glance of exasperation before looking at me again. “What _do_ you want?”

The butterflies were back, fluttering violently in my gut. This was it. I cleared my throat. “It's a long story, and I think we should sit.”

“Give us the short version.” Suddenly Dean lost his good humour.

I shrugged. What did I have to lose by being blunt? “I know both of you. You would know me as Rusty, your family dog from twenty-odd years ago.”

There was a brief pause. “You have got to be kidding me.” Dean passed his hand over his face. “Is this some sort of sick joke?”

I shook my head again. “I said it was a long story.”

I saw their hands reach behind their backs for their weapons; they drew and I immediately raised my hands in the air.

“So does that make you a shape-shifter or something?”

Sam's question was almost drowned out by an angry Dean. “ _How do you know about Rusty?!_ She died in the fire you sick bitch.” I could swear his gun shook in his hand.

“Please,” I started, “just hear me out. I am telling the truth, and I've been looking for you for a very long time.” _Please, please, please..._

Sam, still point his pistol at me, moved to sit on the far bed. He gestured at me to sit across from him.

Dean turned to him accusingly. “You want to listen to this lying whore? We should shoot her right now.” He glared at me; he definitely meant it.

“What's the harm in listening?” He gestured at me with the barrel again. “Let's go.”

I stepped past Dean tentatively and lowered myself on the bed opposite Sam. I swallowed. “In 1982...

 


	2. Three's A Crowd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrysler explains where she comes from and bares her soul to the boys.

“...I got into a pickle with a witch. That's a story in and of itself,” I added quickly, “but she cursed me to one form. At the time I happened to be a golden retriever. I was fully capable of taking care of myself – I've lived on my own in the wild before – but I was extremely frustrated by my new handicap. I went in search of another witch to amend my situation and that's when I ran into Mary, your mother.”

The Winchester boys stared at me; Sam with interest, Dean with simmering resentment. I tried to speak as quickly as I could to avoid being interrupted. “It was a rainy afternoon in Lawrence, Kansas. She must have felt sorry for me because she fed me a piece of bagel and invited me into her car. I was cold, wet, and hungry that day and followed with eagerness. I could run away if I had to, but I was so tired I relented to whatever she had planned for that night. The next thing I know, I'm being dried off by a towel, John is scolding her for bringing in a mongrel, and you, Dean, are patting my head saying, 'Good doggy'.” Against my will my eyes began to well up. “So for a year and a half I was with your family.”

Dean was not having any of my tale. I hadn't thought he would, but it was hurtful to see him shaking his head. “I don't believe it. Rusty was just a dog. My mother wouldn't allow a shape-shifter into our home.” He cocked his gun.

I felt a cold sweat build at the nape of my neck. “I think she suspected something after a while, but I tried to stay under the radar. I was unexpectedly happy to be under a roof and to be a part of a family.” My hands fumbled at the zipper of the small bag I still had hanging from my shoulder. “Maybe this will prove it to you...”

The men jumped when I reached into the bag but what I pulled out was not threatening. The old, dark brown leather was soft between my fingers; the cracks in the material spoke of its age. A collar. I offered it to Dean who carefully inspected the engraved tag – RUSTY. The corners of his eyes lost all tension as he gazed down at it.

Sam interjected amongst the heavy silence. “Well?”

“This is it. The collar she wore.”

I folded my hands in my lap. “Can you believe me now?”

“Why now? Why come back to us now?”

I glanced down at the floor. “After the fire I ran off. You went too far for me to follow on foot. It took a few more years before I was able to lift the curse. By then I had heard about your father's rage, and even though I thought of you as family, I was afraid he would kill me if we met. I wanted to find you alone.”

“Rusty...” Dean said softly to himself, as though he was reliving a memory.

“Um,” I stammered, “my given name is Chrysler, actually.”

Seemingly unaffected by the reunion, Sam put his gun down and folded his arms over his chest. “So what do you want? I don't feel like you're family since I was six months old when... We've met, and now what?”

I squared my shoulders. “I would like to join you. I think I have invaluable skills and I like your vigilante mission.”

Dean scoffed. “Why would we ever team up with a monster?”

“Because I can change forms, I have better sight and smell than you, and I'm very low-maintenance.” I raised an eyebrow. “We have common interests.”

“Like?”

“I want to kill creatures that go rogue. The cold-hearted and unnecessary murder of humans and non-humans alike doesn't fly with me.”

Sam shrugged. “Is she who she says she is?”

“I think so.”

“Should we trust her?”

I awaited judgment with baited breath.

“I guess worst case we take care of her if she tries something. She is outnumbered.”

It was better than rejection.

Sam turned to me with questioning eyes. “You are a she, right?”

I let out a bark of laughter. “Yes, I am female.”

Dean tucked his gun back into his waistband. “Welcome to the crew, I guess, Ru...Chrysler. You'd better be useful. We're heading out at six a.m.”

“Where are you headed?”

His expression turned incredibly sober. “Dad went on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few weeks. We're out to find him.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I just wrote this first chapter and I'm working on the second. I'm very excited to begin this story I have always wanted to write! I don't really know what's coming next, so I haven't chosen archive warnings. I will add some if that changes.  
> Enjoy!  
> ~TOW


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